


don’t know how to escape from this prison

by mind_boggling



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, lemme get this tag popping with fics, my first microsarah fic whooo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 21:38:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12826629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mind_boggling/pseuds/mind_boggling
Summary: She feels the sand beneath her toes, wriggling them and letting the grains bump lightly over her skin. It’s their wedding day, she remembers now, a beach wedding, so they planned it in the back of a pick up truck in senior year. Because he was so sure that they would last.And she’s sinking, the sand crawling up her legs with a quick pace, like it has a mind of its own. Just like the grass, the more she struggles, the quicker she sinks. He let’s go of her completely, stepping away out of sight - disappearing into the light of the sun because it’s so bright, so bright, she’s going blind. And the sand reaches her neck and encapsulates her airways, and she’s choking. Quickly and fast, and painfully.Because even though he’s the one who passed away, she’s the one who feels dead.





	don’t know how to escape from this prison

**Author's Note:**

> sarah’s nightmares are recurring after david passes away. she’s trapped in her own mind and her memories of her husband haunt her daily routine. 
> 
> but she manages to heal. in time.

Within the first month of his passing, she hardly sleeps at all. It was either sleep, or the void of deranged nightmares that occupy her mind. A common reoccurrence. 

She lies on the rough ground beneath her, the cold and dewey grass wrapping around her arms. It’s almost as though it’s coming alive, encasing her within their thin vines, sucking her into the ground. Flowers rest at her head, dead and wilted, as it feels like she’s been there for days and weeks on end. Lying there, hoping, waiting, wishing, whilst her tears form a pool around her to drown her. 

_in loving memory,_

Her hands smooth over the headstone and trace the engraved letters, fingers trembling. Always trembling. She is so cold. And his voice comes to her in her sleep, wakes her from the intermittent slumber, a hand on her shoulder gently shaking her awake. She’s sure it’s him, so sure of it, his name escapes her lips. _David_ — It’s his face, merely for a second, before the familiar furrowed brow of her son appears.

“Come on, Mom,” he says, always. A sympathetic smile on his face. Her breathing is laboured, forming a cloud in front of her mouth. “Time to go home” 

As she starts to get up, the ground beneath her rumbles, and he disappears quickly. She reaches out for him, hands just missing his as he seems to fly away from her into the dark night. The grass wraps itself around her once again, encasing her arms, gripping tighter the harder she pulls away. She screams, always screaming, until her head slams violently into the headstone.

_beloved father, brother, and son._

And she wakes. In sweat, sometimes blood, as she shakes so violently in bed that her head clashes with the board behind her, and most definitely tears. And the space next to her in the bed is always empty. 

—

The realisation hit her on Sunday.

The kids hadn’t been to school for a month since it happened, and as for herself, she’d hardly moved out of bed, let alone gone to work. It was bad for her, she knew that, but there was something— that whenever she moved just a muscle, it hurt. It had to be psychological, because she’d had no physical trauma whatsoever, just emotional. 

Her Sister had come into town on behalf of their mother, to nurse her back to health and to watch the kids whenever she slept herself into oblivion only to be awoken by nightmares. She had never really been fond of him, but his passing had unleashed a pack of grief within her, too. 

She sat on the sofa in front of the TV, the volume on low, almost static- probably a problem with the electricity. She’d have to call someone. The kids’ backpacks sat in front of her half empty, half full of newly purchased school supplies.

“Mom?” 

She sniffed, pulling her head from her hands and looked toward the bottom of the stairwell where Leo stood. Plastering the falsest of smiles, she wiped the tears from her cheeks and ushered for her to sit on the sofa with her. “Yeah, baby, what’s up?”

“Are you okay?” She asked, nestling into the arms of her mother, who held onto her as tightly as possible, pressing her eyes closed as more tears formed. 

She could only nod. “Yeah,” she mumbled. “I just, I have to go and get gas for tomorrow. The car hasn’t been out in weeks so there’s nothing in it. Don’t want to be late for school now do we?”

“Why are you crying about gas?” Leo asked, and as dumb a question it was, the way that she really was crying over going out to get gas was even dumber. 

_“Want me to get gas?” He calls from the living room. She’s chopping vegetables in the kitchen and she leans her head forward in line with the hallway. He stands at the bottom of the stairwell donning a coat and hat._

_“Would you? You lifesaver, I’m nowhere near finished with the lunches for tomorrow I won’t have time to go” She answers, as he heads into the kitchen and grabs the keys from the surface in front of her._

_“No worries,” he replies, a smile on his face as he presses his lips to hers. She clutches onto the knife, her eyes fluttering shut briefly. A frown as he pulls away. “Garlic breath”_

_She only laughs. “Drive safe, its snowy outside”_

_He jangles the keys on his way out. “Will do”_

She just shrugged. “Your father used to do it for me, he knew how much I hated it. I’d always be tucking you kiddos into bed and he’d hop down to the station and fill the car up for me. Be back in time to kiss you goodnight” 

The smile that had found itself on her face, reminiscent of the memories, faded quickly as reality set back in. “And this is the first time he isn’t here to do it”

—

He’s holding her hand. It’s bliss.

Smiling, he presses a kiss to her forehead before pulling her into his chest and wrapping his arm around her. She fits perfectly under his chin, and it’s always something she had liked. Her arms wrap perfectly around his waist. It’s home. 

He smells like liquorice, his favourite, and her mind flashes to where he always hid the secret stash so that the kids wouldn’t get at it. It was on one of the top shelves in their kitchen, mainly so he was the only one that could reach it.

She feels the sand beneath her toes, wriggling them and letting the grains bump lightly over her skin. It’s their wedding day, she remembers now, a beach wedding, so they planned it in the back of a pick up truck in senior year. Because he was so sure that they would last.

_in the name of the lord,_

And she’s sinking, the sand crawling up her legs with a quick pace, like it has a mind of its own. Just like the grass, the more she struggles, the quicker she sinks. He let’s go of her completely, stepping away out of sight - disappearing into the light of the sun because it’s so bright, so bright, she’s going blind. And the sand reaches her neck and encapsulates her airways, and she’s choking. Quickly and fast, and painfully.

Because even though he’s the one who passed away, she’s the one who feels dead.

_i now pronounce you man and wife._

And she wakes, coughing and gasping for water, the duvet almost on the floor. Her daughter sleeps next to her, stirred awake at her constant coughing. She flinches when she feels a hand on her shoulder, the childlike voice nursing her back to normality. And the photograph on the mantle piece is smashed from the backlash of the nightmare- and he exists only through a cracked screen.

—

Thursday nights had always been the worst of the entire week.

Aside from taking Leo to youth club in the middle of town, she also had to take Zach to soccer practise. The traffic was worse than it had ever been and when they finally arrived at the training centre, most parents were already parked. The lot was almost full, and as she pulled onto it, she eyed the last space in the corner.

Pressing her foot down on the gas, she drove toward the spot, coming into collision with another driver with the exact same idea. She flew forward, Zach’s head bouncing back and forth with her and she gasped quickly. “Oh my god”

“Ow,” he groaned in annoyance.

“Oh, baby, are you okay? I’m sorry” She asked quickly, looking toward him in the passengers seat. He rubbed the back of his neck and she put a hand on his shoulder and checked over his upper body. Kissing his head, she quickly unbuckled her belt and exited her car. “Hey!” She called loudly, approaching the other driver. “You almost killed my son”

“Bit of an overstatement, lady” he called back in response. His voice was bitter and he restarted his car and began driving into the spot. She frowned angrily and ran around the front of the car and pressed her hands on the bonnet to stop it from moving. The driver honked his horn at her and she grimaced a little. “Get out of the way!”

“This is my spot” She called in response. “I am here to drop my son off at soccer, I’m already late because of this godforsaken traffic, and now you’re going to try and steal my spot?” 

“Mom!” Zach called, running toward her from the car, a frown on his face. “What the hell are you doing? Move out of the way”

“Get back in the car, Zach” She shouted, her voice beginning to waver. She could feel her anger turning into sadness, and her mind becoming reminiscent of things she’d tried so desperately to repress that day. She looked back at the driver. “This is my spot”

“Mom, it’s just a parking spot” Zach said, heading over towards her, taking one of her arms. He yanked hard enough so that she moved away from the car and he drove into the spot. “You’re embarrassing me” He said, still holding onto her arm. “It’s just a parking spot”

“It’s my spot” She repeated, pulling her arms away from Zach’s grip and beginning to pace around on the spot. Her breath became shorter and sharper and tears prickled in her eyes. “It’s my spot, Zach, it’s my spot” she kept repeating it as she felt herself crumble to the ground in the middle of the parking lot.

_“Your road rage is terrible, you know that?” He says, opening the fridge and pulling a plate of leftover casserole out from the middle shelf. He opens the drawer next in the centre island and pulls out a fork. “I mean, I swear I thought that guy was gonna call the cops,”_

_She just laughs, leaning against the counter opposite him and sighing deeply. She puts her head in her hands and rubs her eyes. “He shouldn’t have got in my way”_

_“Damn right!” He answers in response, causing her to laugh loudly. He puts the casserole down and walks around the island toward her before putting his arms around her waist and looking down at her. “He’ll know not to mess with you in the future”_

_“Doubt I’ll ever see him again, babe” She replies, a smile on her face as he presses a kiss to her temple. She leans her head on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heart as he strokes the back of her head with his hand._

_“Certainly won’t” he responds. “Cause now he knows you’re on the warpath”_

She covered her mouth and Zach crouched next to her embarrassedly, placing a hand on her back and pulling her toward his arms. She cried into his arms, loud, body wracking sobbing, falling to pieces in the middle of a fucking training centre parking lot.

Zach never went there again.

—

She figured out she was healing on day 154. 

It was what had become an average day. She’d stopped crying as much, started getting out more. Her Sister moved back home, forcing her spend more time with Zach and Leo, but she didn’t mind. She had missed them in the wake of her grief.

A Saturday morning, nestled on the sofa in front of the TV with the kids as the ending of a movie rolled into the credits. It was nearing 11am and she was yawning, not surprising. Zach perked up as the movie finished whilst Leo began flicking through the channels for something else. “Mom?” he asked.

“Yeah, baby?” She replied, moving about on the sofa to face him. She took hold of his hand that lay next to hers on the sofa and bought it to her mouth to kiss it. He smiled a little before he spoke.

“Can we have pancakes for breakfast?” 

“Breakfast?” She challenged, laughing a little. “I don’t know about you but it’s almost lunch, my little man” 

He pleaded, launching himself at her, wrapping his arms around her neck as he buried himself into her chest. She was laughing, groaning a little at the pain it caused her but she let it slide. Leo inched our from beneath her as they began squashing her. “Hey!” she exclaimed angrily.

She pushed Zach up off her, still laughing as his grinning face came into view. He helped her back up and she sighed as her back hit the back of the couch once more. Leo had found another movie on the TV that was just starting and had already settled down to watch it. “I’ll see what I can do”

Standing from the sofa, she headed around toward the kitchen. Clearing the table of its contents, she laid a new cloth over it before heading toward the kitchen with the empty cups from the table. As she passed the cupboard on her right, she eyed the photograph on the wall of the four of them. 

She awaited the tears that always came. They didn’t. She awaited the shaking of her body to start. It didn’t. She awaited the clash of the contents in her hands to sound. Non existent. And with that, she took a pinch of salt. 

Because she was healing.

**Author's Note:**

>  **title:** song lyrics from ' _i can’t breathe_ ' by _bea miller_
> 
> find me elsewhere:
> 
>  **twitter:** vanlangs  
>  **tumblr:** bisexualieberman


End file.
